


ain't this a nice surprise

by Anonymous



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Slice of Life, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Alizayd al Qahtani meets his most dangerous foe yet: his mother in full wedding-planner mode.
Relationships: Nahri e-Nahid/Alizayd al Qahtani
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Anonymous





	ain't this a nice surprise

**Author's Note:**

> EoG reread: Everybody loves a wedding, right?

Ali had faced down an angry, overpowered Afshin. He'd fought Geziri assassins. He'd taken down most of an army of revenant corpses, and a score of invading Daeva troops with them. He had battled pirates, marids, and the unholy terrors raised by Manizheh's ifrit magic. He'd stood against the goddess of the seas and proclaimed his independence.

He had never, however, had an opponent like his mother when it came to the topic of the size and scope of his upcoming nuptials.

"You are not having a small wedding," she told him. "It's preposterous. The two of you are uniting our tribes, after centuries of hatred and the worst battle Daevabad has seen in over a millennium. It's cause for celebration. You need to be seen celebrating, and the city needs to celebrate with you."

"Yes," said Nahri, "because that worked _so well_ last time."

"Seeing as how Alizayd isn't in love with your brother, I'm sure this time will be more promising."

"Amma,"Ali protested, blushing. 

Nahri coughed. "You could have arranged for Muntadhir to marry Jamshid. Apparently Manizheh took time out of her busy schedule of terror to demand that change in our religion. Kartir still has notes on the celebration she was planning, if you need further inspiration."

"Oh," said Ali. "That was nice of her?" Nahri raised her eyebrows, probably--understandably--not over her aunt's multiple attempts to murder her. "Nicer than what my father did. Muntadhir's really disappointed that no one thought to tell him about Jamshid's heritage before Manizheh did." Disappointed wasn't the word for it, but Muntadhir had gone very quiet, his eye wide and then narrow, and then he'd pressed his lips together and changed the subject.

His mother's gaze slid to Nahri. "You told him?"

"No," said Ali, "I did." And then, when his mother turned that golden gaze on him, he added, flustered, "He deserved to know."

"Alu," his mother said, "darling, perhaps your father's best kept secret was that your older brother is not the beautiful idiot he appears to be. He is a dangerous man, and I would appreciate it if you did not give him a reason to be aggrieved at me."

Nahri snorted. She'd said she would spend the tea listening to Ali and Hatset's plans while she worked on a curriculum for the hospital's new students, but they'd been there an hour and she'd barely added a line. "He's not going to hurt the mother of his siblings. Wajed, on the other hand, had better watch his back, because Muntadhir is furious that everyone who knew Jamshid was a Nahid let him suffer wounds his powers could have easily healed for all those years, and I can't say I blame him."

Oh. That was what that expression had meant. Ali snuck a look at Nahri, who'd sounded a little furious as well. She and Muntadhir seemed to get along so much better after the divorce. Ali had tried not to feel jealous, but after a few weeks he'd asked Nahri if she missed Muntadhir. "No," she'd said, "but I wish he'd have let me know who he really was while we were married. We could have run _so many_ cons." Which reassured Ali on one level, but left him with a whole new set of concerns about Muntadhir and Nahri's participation in the democratization process. He was sure they wouldn't do anything too dangerous or illegal or--

He glanced at Nahri, who'd hidden that flash of anger and now looked perfectly harmless. Like butter would not melt in her mouth. (Her mouth, he had cause to know, was definitely hot enough to melt butter.) Anything Nahri did, anything that Muntadhir did, would be good, he told himself. For Daevabad, even if Daevabad didn't know it yet. Still, he'd check with the council to make absolutely sure--

"Wajed can take care of himself," Hatset murmured. "And no, I will not be borrowing Manizheh's notes. I don't think she had unification in mind when she wrote them, and she certainly didn't intend it for the whole of the city."

Ali hadn't intended his wedding to be for the whole of the city either. He'd wanted a quiet ceremony with an imam, perhaps one of the Daeva priests as well, but he understood why his mother thought that would not be enough. Nahri was the Banu Nahida, and Ali the son of the last Qahtani king. If they married quickly and discreetly, there would be gossip. Not particularly unkind gossip--most of the city revered Nahri for freeing them and restoring their magic, and she had Suleiman's seal, but still. A fast marriage would mean that Sobek wouldn't be the only one expecting them to have children soon. "We're not going to have everyone watching," he said, desperate.

"We're not," said Nahri firmly, her voice a promise. "This is for us; the unification is incidental."

Ali found himself smiling at her. After several seconds, he became aware his mother was clearing her throat.

"The ceremony itself can be small," she conceded. "But the festivities should include the whole city. I was thinking a procession, of the sort that would normally follow a new coronation, through all six districts."

"A procession?" Nahri tore her gaze away from Ali's. "The city is half-starved from the siege and the farms outside the walls barely survived the rain of blood and sheep-sized locusts. If you parade horses through the streets, I guarantee you that some of them will be stolen and eaten, and the djinn who don't manage to steal a horse will resent it all the more. Do you really want to a throw a large, lavish party and throw it in the city's face?"

"Yes," said Hatset. "We'll import food to provide feasts for every quarter of the city."

Nahri blinked. "I... yes, that could work. The horses will still get stolen and eaten, though."

"So we'll do the procession on foot." Hatset shrugged. "It's better that way: both the Daevas and Geziris hold riding in high esteem, and neither of you do terribly well on a horse--"

"Are you _sure_ you don't want to plan my brother's wedding instead?"

"--and it conveys a measure of humility," finished Hatset, talking over Nahri.

Nahri narrowed her eyes. "Yes, a massive procession with food for the entire city and who knows how many attendants and garments that cost more than most djinn will ever earn in their lifetimes. Extremely humble."

"I'll send word to the tailors in Ta Ntry to make the garments more simple." His mother pursed her lips. "And to shorten them, since the two of you will be walking."

Ali blinked. "You already had clothes made? How long have you been planning this?"

Nahri raised her eyebrows and stared at Hatset.

After a moment, his mother looked away from Nahri and said, "I have always dreamed of seeing my children happily married."

"Oh, is that why Zaynab eloped to the other side of the world?" Nahri muttered, sotto voce, and Hatset narrowed her eyes again. Ali wanted to correct her that Zaynab hadn't eloped, she was traveling with Aqisa, but he knew that if she'd remained in Daevabad, she might have been forced into a political marriage like their father would have wanted, and doubtless his mother had had something elaborate planned for the occasion. But at least his sister would have enjoyed the pageantry.

"Now," said his mother, "as to the topic of jewels--"

"I thought we were trying to convey humility," said Nahri.

Now it was Hatset's turn to raise her eyebrows. "Seed pearls are traditional, and make for a lovely effect when sewn into--"

There was another silent staring match. Ali was almost certain he was missing something, but as long as it kept him from being dolled up in cloth of gold and paraded about the city, he supposed he couldn't complain. All that mattered to him was that he had Nahri by his side. He touched her hand, and she, without breaking the staring match, wrapped her fingers around his, a small smile playing on her mouth. The battle of his wedding, he knew, wasn't one he could win on his own--but Nahri was prepared to fight and win it on his behalf, and regardless of how plain or how fancy the ceremony was, no one could ask for a more auspicious start to a marriage.


End file.
